


questionable ;

by therentyoupay



Series: knowledgeable [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Accidental) Pen Pals, (implied!), Epistolary, F/M, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Pen Pals, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8181977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentyoupay/pseuds/therentyoupay
Summary: "Dearest and Loveliest Hermione of House Grange,I regret to inform you that Fair Ronald has quite unfortunately come down with a case of a rare and most unknown affliction this morning, and is at present quite unable to manage both quill and parchment. (At this precise moment his mouth is exceptionally productive with drool, and I fear that any attempts on his part—once he regains consciousness—will result in cursive of the most soggy nature.) It is most distressing, and it wounds me deeply to share with you this inconvenience on the part of our brother’s pitiful efforts at self-care. Honestly, what was he thinking, not watching what he put into his mouth? For shame.Given your brilliance of mind, you have no doubt weaved together this newfound information into the deduction that I, most esteemed Frederick of House Weasley, am writing in his stead." — In which Fred and Hermione exchange a short series of letters. { Fred/Hermione, "Pen Pals," (Summer Before) OotP }





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seevikiifangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=seevikiifangirl).



> _10/1/16_. Written to fill a prompt on my [tumblr](http://therentyoupay.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> After I finished _[check the pipes for frost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3109913/chapters/6737729)_ I told myself I wasn’t going to write epistolary for a while, but I’m such a sucker for pen pal tropes. Thanks for the Fremione prompt! I do love writing them. ♡
> 
> This is based in the same universe as my other Fremione one-shot, _[knowledgeable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4010998)_.

 

* * *

 

Dearest and Loveliest Hermione of House Grange,

I regret to inform you that Fair Ronald has quite unfortunately come down with a case of a rare and most unknown affliction this morning, and is at present quite unable to manage both quill and parchment. (At this precise moment his mouth is exceptionally productive with drool, and I fear that any attempts on his part—once he regains consciousness—will result in cursive of the most soggy nature.) It is most distressing, and it wounds me deeply to share with you this inconvenience on the part of our brother’s pitiful efforts at self-care. Honestly, what was he thinking, not watching what he put into his mouth? For shame.

Given your brilliance of mind, you have no doubt weaved together this newfound information into the deduction that I, most esteemed Frederick of House Weasley, am writing in his stead.

First, allow me to share how deeply I lament the long two weeks that have invariably separated you and I during this fine, healthy summer—that which occurs before the onset of your fifth and my seventh most illustrious year at Hogwarts. I am sure that you are fiercely missing the constancy of my rapier wit, as I have indeed missed your imperative nature so much to the point that I myself have begun to fulfill some of the roles of our camaraderie which you hold so dear. Who else is to nag, direct, and stare condescendingly towards me? Without you to fill the tremulous void in my life of Chagrin and Disapproval, I have no choice but to resort to scolding myself. “No, Fred!” says I, “What would Hermione Granger say of your precarious decision to engage in tomfoolery after noontime!” It has been a true challenge, to fulfill the roles of both Scolder and Ignore the Scolder, I tell you. Yet I have managed. Somehow.

Yet this morning I write you not only to put sweet-nothings of your loveliness to the page, nor merely to fulfill my brotherly duty of minimizing all the ways in which our dear brother has fallen woefully short. As it stands, the foremost reason for my correspondence is to remark upon the intrigue of a query resulting from an act of the most astounding nature, achieved by none other than yourself.

I write this missive to you in the midst of an alarming state of disbelief regarding the fact that Ronald’s incompetent but enthusiastic owl has been waiting most patiently and devoutly at our garden perch for almost a full half of an hour. Through a series of thoughtful investigations, the least of which include pecking and poking in full, it has come to my attention that you have somehow managed to bestow upon the small feather-nugget the specific instructions to dutifully return to you at once and only with a prompt response from our dearest, smallest, most speckled brother.

I must admit that I am reluctantly impressed: I am not so surprised, of course, given your sharpness of mind and knack for finding the means to capably boss around even the most senseless or willful of creatures. However, I am, in fact, quite astounded that you managed to produce such a steadfast result. For perspective: George’s last attempt at convincing Pigwidgeon to do anything other than flap about the drawing room resulted in such consequences as the man finding minuscule bird droppings in his porridge for nearly a month. You will have to share your owl whispering ways upon our next fond greeting, you understand.

Before I sign off and we are once more separated until the ever-distant first of September (or your next visit, upon earliest appointment once you’ve realized that you can no longer bear the hollowness of my absence), the responsibility falls upon me to remind you that Ronald “Ickle” “Ronniekins” Weasley, while possessing a stout sort of fitful stubbornness, is hardly capable of composing letters so lovely as mine, even at the peak of his questionable health. Regardless of the estimation of time for which we imagine it might take young, fair Ronald to recover enough to hold firm a quill, I give you leave to ponder the comparisons of our correspondence, and I will think fondly of all the ways your day may have been brightened upon the receipt of my letter.

But as it stands, Pigwidgeon is growing most impatient with the few short minutes it has taken me to unleash my wit into your note. I know your fondness for my letters will only grow, as I have quite taken to the diversion myself.

I look forward to receiving a most clever and intriguing response.

Yours truly,

Frederick, Because This Name is Fancier

—————————————————————

Dear Fred,

If you spent half so much time on your NEWT preparation essays as you did on seeking ways to ruffle the feathers of your brother’s friends, I daresay you might actually yield some impressive results.

So Ron is sick, you say? As it so happens, I’ve actually been wondering recently if you’d found the missing ingredient to the new Sleep-Quick-Sick Spell you and George had been working on in at the end of May, but it appears I no longer need ask.

Given your most concerning emphasis on Ron’s overactive salivary glands, I presume that you opted for the Valerian sprigs instead of the billywig stings. Please keep in mind that the long-term effects of combining Valerian sprigs and peppermint are not yet fully known, and if you are insistent upon using your youngest brother as a test subject, then not only I will not consent to providing further consultation to your wily endeavors, but will also be compelled to report your unethical experiments to the necessary authorities.

With that said: stop poisoning your brother and simply tell him to write me back as soon as possible.

There are more important things at stake, Fred, so I would appreciate it if you would kindly not interrupt our owls. Thank you.

 

Hope you’re having a good start to the summer,  
Hermione

P.S. There is no special trick. Just be kind to Pig. (Perhaps you could start, I might suggest, by not poking him.)

————————————

Most Beautiful and Esteemed and Glittering Jewel of my Heart Which is Pressed Devotedly to my Literal Heart, Hermione:

I can’t fathom what you mean. “More important things at stake?” Now? At the tail-end of June and just upon the first fresh breath of summer? Why, I cannot imagine anything so much more important than that. Have you taken the time to stop and smell the proverbial roses, dearest Hermione? I should think not, if such is your estimation of “importance.”

And I would love to inform my brother of your impatience to read his illegible scribble once more, but I’m afraid that he’s still rather overcome at the moment. You see, in addition to the drool, he has developed a rather interesting and expansive rash. I’m sure your inquisitive mind would be most interested in cataloguing the details of his physical situation in particular. Just out of curiosity—about how long would you, in your knowledgeable opinion, imagine such a physical reaction might last? Not that it is any concern of mine, you know.

As to your queries regarding our most recent inventions: you are very close! As ever, your mind is as sharp as is Draco Malfoy’s nose in January. In fact, I would like to take this brief moment to again remind you of my gratitude for your most informative discussions this past year at our beloved Hogwarts breakfast hall. Without your knowledge and support, Ickle Ronniekins’ current experience would not have been possible. You are indeed a treasure, Miss Granger.

Do continue to write me with all of your fond passion, for I dearly enjoy watching the way your handwriting grows distinctly more incensed as your letters progress.  
  


Fondly,  
Frederick, House of the Magnanimous Weasleys

——————————————————

“Frederick,”

Does George know that you’re writing to me? I wouldn’t put it past you if the two of you have been writing these letters together, as some sort of joint project in which the both of you can snicker over cutesy nicknames you see fit to bestow upon those who could very well do without them. Yet for some reason, I have the distinct impression that you are alone in this venture, and my true question lies in the wake of: “Why?”

Are you bored, Fred Weasley? It’s not as if there is a madman returned from the dead and hiding somewhere in the shadows, or as if there is a most powerful and dangerous Wizard out to seek revenge upon your brother’s best friend, as well as all who he holds dear. There is nothing at all that I imagine should occupy your thoughts more—except, perhaps, for the next jinx to create for the fun of welcoming the unsuspecting First Years to Hogwarts’ halls, or tormenting your brother after what is arguably an exceedingly difficult year, or writing your brother’s friend to tease them about their friendly correspondence (and it is just that—friendly, and nothing else, so don’t you dare presume, Frederick Weasley), or wasting away your afternoon in an attempt to come up with the newest and most ridiculous creation of endearment to tack onto your address to me.

If you are done, “Frederick” Weasley, I would greatly appreciate a little sensitivity on the matter. Things are already strained enough as it is.

Please tell your mother that I said “hello,” and George too, I suppose, even though he’s probably just as much a culprit as you are.  
  


Best,  
Hermione

———————————————

Dearest, Most Brilliant, Most Perceptive and Exceedingly Priggish Hermione,

Your low estimation of my character is surprisingly cruel, my young brother’s dear one! I wonder at what could have prompted such lack of patience or civility? Can you recall a single moment in which you have found yourself on the receiving end of one of our well-crafted hijinks? I think not.

Yet if you are so determined to believe my actions to be in poor taste, then I suppose it is only expected that I should live up to your expectations, is it not? 

Alas, my heart of Gryffindor is too noble for such, and for this I have no choice but to thus endeavor to continue my quest of civility and Most Genuine Friendship in the hopes that you will one day learn to see the truth of my most noble heart. I would never tread so far as to presume anything less than the most gentle and beautiful intentions of your words, you understand. However, I also understand if your current inability to meet me in this way—namely: your lack of trust, as well as your skepticism (stemming from your rather Ravenclaw-like tendencies, I am sure)—stunts the growth of your willingness to see me as anything more than simply the devilishly good-looking and intimidating elder brother of your questionable choice in close friends. Your opinion of me will only improve with time, and with letters, I am sure.  
  


Forever yours,  
Frederick ♥

P.S. Because I am a kind soul who cares greatly for the wellness of my young and hapless sibling, I would like to inform you that Ronniekins is doing just fine and once again has regained his grasp of sleep-spoken consonants, so it should only be a matter of time before he is actually able to gain lucidity enough to write you a dashing sentence of three words or more.

P.P.S. If you would be so kind as to remind me of that lawful article you mentioned during the final stretch of last February, that one evening in the Common Room while we held our debate on the significance of the presence of overseers in sleeping draught advancement, I would be greatly obliged.

P.P.P.S. What does it matter if the afternoon is spent writing letters? It is a Saturday. This is a perfectly acceptable afternoon activity, with only minimal tomfoolery.

P.P.P.P.S. In the time that it has taken for me to write the amending post-scripts, it seems that Ron’s rash has turned a rather interesting shade of burgundy. Thoughts?

—————————————

Dear Fred,

If you insist on continuing this game, at least give Pigwidgeon more resting time before he’s forced to fly all this way again. Ginny also sent a quick note to ask me why your owl is getting so much air travel today, and wanted to know if you were pestering me for “legal advice.” Just what are you doing over there? Have you told no one of this new strange hobby of yours, after all?

As for your current dilemma (because it does, in fact, seem to be a rising concern for you, if you have not yet been able to secure an antidote, honestly, Fred, what kind of amateur inventor are you?), I have a series of questions:

\- For many hours has Ron been unconscious?  
\- How has your mother not yet learned of exactly what you’ve done?  
\- Exactly what proportion of wormwood to sand to Valerian Sprigs did you include in the potion?  
\- Did you allow the half-brew to sit for a full seventeen hours before stirring for a third time?  
\- Was the final result allowed to remain in liquid form or did you decide to follow through with your dreams of compacting it into a chocolate bar?

No, I shall not repeat the name of it. I already regret having mentioned it to you once, even for the sake of winning the argument, and I won’t make it any easier for you now. You’re plenty resourceful enough, clearly. Find it yourself.

If Pigwidgeon comes back without having rested for a full half hour and eaten a hefty snack, so help me, Fred, you will be sorry.

\- Hermione

————————————

Eternal Sunshine and Golden Lioness of the Modern Age, Dearest Hermione Jean Granger,

The desire for our prompt and frequent correspondence cannot be helped. Pigwidgeon will surely benefit from the exercise. You will be pleased, however, to note that I have followed your instructions explicitly. Pigwidgeon napped for precisely one half hour and also consumed an entire block of cheese, though not necessarily in that order. I daresay we are both satisfied.

Ron has been unconscious for approximately eight and three-quarters hours. My mother is a clever woman who fortunately has not yet seen fit to return from a visit to her our Aunt Beatrice’s. The wormwood to sand to Valerian sprigs proportions were exactly as we’d discussed in May, more or less, and I do not see how my fine-tuning them could be the source of the problem here.

I did, for a fact, allow the half-brewed potion to sit and stew for a full seventeen night and day hours before beginning the third round of stirring. I utilized an alternating method: four times clockwise, seven times counter, and once the substance had congealed George created a well in the center in order for me to pour the remaining ingredients, and then I proceeded to stir the contents for a full fifteen turns, all counterclockwise.

Because this was a first run in a series of test-runs, I kept the potion in the original form, as opposed to the preferred chocolate setting. However, the original expectation was “liquid.” The actual result was less liquid and more of a molasses? A jam. A jelly substance. Perhaps like gravy. If you have notes, please share.

  
Forever and only yours,  
Frederick

——————————————————

SHAME ON YOU FOR USING YOUR BROTHER AS AN UNWILLING SUBJECT! What is the primary color and are there secondary colors? What do you mean it was more like a jelly substance? Was it more like molasses or gravy? Write me immediately.

If there is any sort of purple discoloration and you have not already transported him to St. Mungo’s, I promise that you will have to find a double room.

——————————————————

What happened to giving Pigwidgeon time to rest? He is receiving very mixed messages, Hermione!

Okay, so upon further inspection, the potion is, in fact, more of a gravy-like substance. It’s a very vividly grayish sort of green. I would even go so far as to say that there are flecks of yellow, but it could also be a very hideous sort of brown.

It does not, however, contain any shade of purple. Of this, I am certain. I have also taken the precautionary measures to ensure that the potion did not overstimulate by ever reaching the point of boiling, and we found that sprinkling just a pinch of salt over the mixture at the half-brew mark helped to prevent the substance’s tendency to clump. (It also enhances the flavor, I am told, but that’s neither here nor there.)

George has conducted some research from a few of our previous notes and, through a simple Energizer spell—(have you seen the one that utilizes fresh lemons? fascinating!)—we’ve found that, although the drool is still very much present, the rash has decreased considerably.  

How is your day going otherwise?

\- Your Dear, True Friend, Fred

———————————————————————

Fred Weasley, if you ever scare me like that again, I am going to hex you so far into oblivion even George won’t be able to recognize you. Leave Ron out of these experiments! If you and George are so insistent, then simply keep running the tests on one another. What you are doing is highly unethical!

And after looking through at least four different books I think I might have found a solution to your recklessness. Do not, under any circumstances, cast any other tier of Alertness spell to try to counter the effects. First and foremost, brew a pot of tea with the highest caffeine content you have at your disposal, and while it’s steeping cast a quick healing charm for his stomach. Once the tea has been brewed, you’ll need to air-dry the used tea leaves. Once ready, follow the instructions of the potions recipe I have included along with this message. Do not lose it.

The potion itself should only be contained to his digestive system at most for the moment, and as long as you act quickly the majority of the impact will not be absorbed into his bloodstream. According to my estimations, he will probably continue to sleep deeply for another hour or two, and then wake up quite abruptly and be very groggy until well into tomorrow afternoon, so you should be positively gleeful about that. If you are indeed a kind and noble soul, you will not let your brother come to know that you have informed anyone—least of all me—about this supposed rash, thank you very much.

Good day, Fred.  
  
\- Hermione

  
P.S. I wasn’t going to bother asking you, but Ron isn’t able to answer at the moment and I have yet to receive a response from anyone of importance.

I haven’t seen Hedwig at all since we’ve left Hogwarts—not _once_ —and I know Harry is going through an awful, awful time, but it is so not like him not to write. Even at his most distressed he will usually send along a meager note simply to let me know that he will send me a letter of decent length soon enough. Pig has agreed to deliver messages to Harry for me, but every time I do try Pig comes back very distressed, with an unopened letter, and I know it cannot be that Pig has gotten lost or sidetracked along the way. I think there might be magic involved, but I can’t decide by whom or for what purpose. Someone does not want me to contact Harry.

How is the Burrow? How is your family? What’s been happening? How can you continue to concoct pointless sickness-inducing chocolate bars while a creature so monumentally unhinged does everything in their tremendous power to ruin the Wizarding world as we know it?

I’m sorry that my anxieties are spilling over into your quest for medical advice. But you wrote me, and I don’t know who else to turn to right now. My subscription to the Daily Prophet has been missing in action for the past three days, and I have no other means of accessing current events here without it. If it’s not too much to ask, I would very greatly appreciate any recent copies you can provide.

Thank you, Fred.

———————————————————————

Hermione,

Here are the full copies of the Daily Prophet from the last four days, save for missing Political Funnies section from yesterday. (George has cut out a few strips of the jokes regarding dear old Cornelius that he wants for safe-keeping.) I added Tuesday’s edition, in case you missed it.

The sections highlighted in blue are where Dad believes some sort of misdirection or conspiracy to be afoot, and the lines in yellow have already been discredited by trusted sources who know better than to trust the Prophet. The pink indicates a cipher of a self-made riddle, but I only recommend taking a stab at this if you are fond of dirty jokes. The orange is anything George and I have overheard Shacklebolt mentioning during his visits here.

Hang in there.

\- Fred

———————————————————————

Thank you, Fred.

\- Hermione

———————————————————————

Most Touted Genius and Superb Sorceress in All the Land, the Beautiful and Powerful Hermione J. Granger,

Will it ease your worries to know that our dearest brother is alert and awake and alive and well? He awoke last night before supper, right on cue with your estimated timeline and well enough before our mother returned home and saw his reproachful laziness. You were absolutely right about the grogginess, but his grumpiness is equally impressive. Pigwidgeon was most distressed when Ron was not able to produce a letter for him to deliver to you this morning, so I took it upon myself to once more serve as a hero to the people and provide you with all that which my brother cannot.

Just out of curiosity—where did you find the potions recipe you provided yesterday? Have you been looking ahead to the NEWT-based potions textbooks? Which copies do you have? George has tried his best to replicate it, or find the original source—but to no avail.

Though I am sure my request is quite unnecessary, I will still entreat you to bring your veritable library of books with you when you arrive. From what I have understood of the talk around the Burrow, it appears that you will be visiting us quite soon.

Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and always,  
Frederick, the Weasley Majestic

———————————————————————

Fred—

Will I? When? What do you mean?

———————————————————————

Hermione, I pour my heart and soul into composing gorgeous and heartfelt, meaningful letters that speak to your every waking desire. The least you could do is create sentences that are longer than four words, no?

I don’t know anything for sure, but it sounds like the whole lot of us will be migrating to a new location within a fortnight. I will keep you informed, but I have a feeling you will be receiving a letter from my father soon. Also—I wouldn’t worry just yet about Harry. It sounds like Dumbledore is up to something, as ever. The old rascal.

In the meantime, do continue to think fondly of my face, and of the moment when your face meets my face once again, and of all the challenges we shall face together, in due time.

Your one and only,  
Frederick ♥♥♥

P.S. Here is today’s copy of the Prophet. Get a load of what they’ve done to Sirius’ face. Try not to dwell too much on the headlines about Harry. Seriously.

———————————————————————

Fred, honestly, how can you stand this? I feel so lost as it is—and I have you! Whereas Harry has no one. I know that we need to be patient and wait for instructions, but this anticipation is actually nearly a physical pain. I’m practically going out of my mind. I have resorted to reading nearly twice as much as usual, and I don’t even care what silly comments you will make of that, Fred Weasley, so that alone should tell you how well or not well I am faring.

How is Ron? Has he finally returned to himself? I hope you kept that recipe. Goodness only knows what you might need it for next.

\- Hermione  
  


P.S. (Thank you, again, for the Prophet. And for continuing to write me your ridiculous, ridiculous letters.

It helps. Mostly.)

P.P.S. You could stand to lessen the drama of your salutations, however. This is not Shakespeare, and you are hardly any Romeo.

(Do wizards and witches learn of Shakespearean literature in their out-of-school studies? Have you read his works? I know a few of his comedies that you would most probably enjoy. The crude sense of humor is uncannily similar. I will send a few copies next time. Perhaps along with the books I used to create the antidotal potion I gave you last, provided that you not do anything untoward with them.)

———————————————————————

Stunning, Magnificent, and with a Beauty that Transcends the Magical Laws of Time and Space and Outlandish Wit, the Goddess Her-my-own-knee,

Where shall I begin? With your acknowledgement of my luminescent presence in your life, or the strength of the burning anticipation you feel in seeing me once more—please behold my incomprehensible gratification in knowing that you have recognized the inevitability of your feelings for me. Behold!

Since you asked: Ron is alive and well and considerably less affected by the aftereffects of the potion, but I imagine that his grumpiness will not lessen much once he knows that you have confessed your profound feelings of joy and connection towards me. Would you like to break the news to him, or should I? I would be very merry to bestow such knowledge upon him. Or, if you prefer, we could complete the task together, in only a matter of days when you arrive for a visit.

(Dad is currently writing your parents a letter. It should arrive not long after mine. Just be patient.)

Your dashing Romeo, your whoever this fellow might be, I don’t know, you shall have to send along the books,

Fred

———————————————————————

Fred,

You were right. My parents are writing back to your father right now, and I’ve already started to pack. Thank you so much.

Quickly, in case I might not have the opportunity to retrieve the items before the car arrives: What else should I bring? I have three of the books on the art and craftsmanship of potions (including: _Stew Your (Own) Brew: Of Creating, Adapting, and Altering Potions_ ), one on the process of reverse potion-brewing for discovering antidotes, and two on the art of mixing relatively unknown ingredients with commonplace materials. I also have five different comedies written by William Shakespeare and two of his dramas, including the one involving the namesake that I think you’ll find you’d much rather not have adopted for yourself. I also happen to have a few chocolate bars from my parents’ last trip to Belgium which I figure can’t hurt to bring along, especially if you’re going to be trying to enhance your own awful flavors, and you never really know when you might run into a Dementor these days, now do you?

If you have any requests, make them quickly!

Quickly!!!!

\- Hermione

———————————————————————

Oh, fuck, blimey, I don’t know, anything you can find on the masking of aftertastes that will not affect the nature of the spells? Same goes for strange smells emitted from either the brew or the final product.

Otherwise, you and you alone will be enough. ♥

———————————————————————

I only have a small collection of articles on masking the aftertastes, but I’m sure there is something to be found in how to go about undermining scents and smells during the brewing process. I’ve been wondering myself about how to alter the perceptions of smells as opposed to the smell itself, so that should be among the first topics of discussion. I’ve already added it to the top of the list, so hopefully we will be able to find time to sort out the questions and divvy up the reading accordingly within a matter of a day or so, but until then I will continue to jot down the new considerations as they come to me.

Last chance——anything else??

———————————————————————

My Dearest and Most Thoughtful and Beloved, the Brightest Witch of Her Age, Hermione:

Ron was very surprised to fall back into lucid awareness within the last hour or so and find that Pig had arrived with a letter from you—to me. ♥ He was equally surprised that I am not currently making use of my own beloved owl. He is equally equally surprised to find that Pig has grown rather fond of me over the last few days, and that Pig responds exceptionally well to kind words and wedges of cheese, especially when provided by yours truly. He is equally equally equally surprised that you have not written him in a few days, goodness gracious, Hermione, what kind of terribly uncommunicative friend are you?

Tell me, do you think the prolonged grumpiness is still a lingering side effect from the misbegotten potion attempt, or is it simply a byproduct of his formative teenage years? I long to hear your opinion on this matter. In person. Which, if I am not mistaken, should be quite presently.

I am very much looking forward to seeing your face, Miss Hermione Granger. Your imperial Bossiness has no rival, and two and a half weeks is far too long for my brilliance to be left unchecked. Please do feel free to check it yourself, once you arrive.

All of my love and respect and chocolate, and maybe even Pig’s too, so long as you still have cheese, but definitely not Ronnikin’s,

Your Fred ♥

———————————————————————

I won’t have time to write you a proper note, but suffice it to say that if you dare mention any of what I forbade you from mentioning to Ronald Bilius Weasley, this test-run fiasco will be the last time you ever receive medical advice from me, I assure you.

And also that you are full of hogwash, and that I am actually very excited be coming to see everyone so soon—even you.

\- Hermione

———————————————————————

Hey, Hermione, sorry I missed your letter. I came down with the nastiest cold you’ve ever seen the other day, no idea where it came from. We’re moving now, although I’m not supposed to say where, and have you heard from Harry at all? Pig is as useless as ever because when I try to send him off, he just dances on the windowsill like he won’t go. I asked my dad and he said that he’ll explain it to me when we get to where we’re going, but who knows if that’s just adults making promises to kids to keep them quiet. I feel really out of it after practically sleeping for two whole days, but I hope you’re doing alright.

Fred and George are being even more prats than usual, but I guess that’s pretty par for the course for summer vacations. They’re bored out of their minds, but as long as they keep me out of it, it’s fine. Fred is pretty high off his rocker, especially, so it doesn’t bode well, but he could have just

Sorry, I got distracted. Fred saw me writing to you and came over to interrupt me? He said, “Make sure you ask her about her opinions regarding the byproducts of formative teenage years,” or whatever. He’s so bored he’s lost it. I don’t know how anybody can mess around so much with all that’s going on, but that’s Fred and George, I guess. They’ll use anything to distract themselves.

Anyway, I’m really glad we’ll be seeing you soon. Dad will be there in a bit.

\- R

P.S. Fred and George are driving me mad, I can’t wait to you get here so I can actually be around someone sane. I mean, you’re just as bonkers as they are, but at least I know you aren’t going to try to turn my hair aquamarine. Fred is an especially hellish nightmare. Get here quick.

Also, when you get here—don’t believe a word Fred says, okay.

———————————————————————


End file.
